


Respite

by proxydialogue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-08
Updated: 2012-04-08
Packaged: 2017-11-03 07:15:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/378737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proxydialogue/pseuds/proxydialogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has brought them here because he knows that Dean is tired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Respite

**Author's Note:**

> Lazy Sunday fluff written as catharsis for my own feels. 
> 
> Scarletjedi _is_ da beta.

This is a moment outside of time. It has been happening since the beginning and it is happening now and it will be happening at the end. 

Dean Winchester is tired as he’s never been tired before. The sunlight beats down around him. His skin is warm and there is a little sweat gathering under his collar. It is blissfully quiet where he is standing. He is in the street, on a beach, on a riverbed, at a mountain top, in the center of a towering city and in the middle of a stretching desert. His back and knees are aching. His fingers are itching. His mouth is dry. 

The world is on his shoulders. 

He is between the ages of thirty and forty. He still looks twenty five for the fire in his eyes and he looks older than his age for the hints of gray at his temples. He is wearing jeans and a t-shirt. There are laugh lines at his eyes and frown lines at his mouth. There is afternoon stubble on his chin. 

He is many things at once.

He is fresh from hell. He is still having nightmares about his brother being swallowed by the earth. He has not yet saved the world. He is giving Lisa the best years of her life. He is waiting for Sam’s mind to break. He is covered in his own blood. He is looking for his brother’s soul. He is mourning for Bobby. He is meeting God for the first time. He is losing hope. He is ready to die. He is being raised from perdition. 

He is not alone in this place. And he is being kissed. 

An angel whom he has known since his “salvation”, whom he has never seen before, whom he has been waiting to see again, whom he will never forgive, who is the reason he still fights, whom he hopes to grow old with, is holding Dean in his arms and his name is Castiel. 

Castiel has brought them here because he knows that Dean is tired. 

Castiel works with Dean’s mouth slowly. First he brushes Dean’s foul language and cries of damnation away with his own lips, sucking them into his mouth and down his throat, swallowing them whole. He pulls Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth and traces it with his tongue; traces his hand up the curve of Dean’s arms and shoulder to the vulnerable skin of his neck. There, just a little damp from the head of the sun, he can feel Dean’s heart beginning to beat faster. A gust of air pushes against his upper lip as Dean exhales and sways forward. Castiel bites down and pulls back and waits. 

Dean is searching his face with moss green eyes. He is thinking: _Who are you?_ and _I’ve missed you_ and _I saw you die_. He is thinking _How could you_ and _I forgive you_. He is thinking: _I’ve wanted to love you since the beginning_. 

Dean cups the edge of Castiel’s jaw—and there is no violence in Dean’s hands, not here—and moves back into Castiel’s space, presses into his body and finds his mouth again. Dean is not so slow. He pries his way past Castiel’s lips with his tongue and takes his nightmares back because no one is allowed to suffer in his place. He holds Castiel at the hip and licks the back of his teeth. It is like the first gasp after drowning. 

Castiel is warm and safe. The sharp need behind his kiss cuts Dean open and bleeds all the hopelessness away. There is something here between them. And because this moment is always happening, it will always be between them

Castiel threads his fingers into Dean’s hair and pulls away a little to make the kiss softer. He is thinking only one thing: _I’ve got you_. 

They don’t speak. They hold on. They forget, they ignore, they haven’t yet known the separations that the world will force upon them. 

This is a moment outside of time. It has been happening since the beginning and it is happening now and it will be happening at the end.


End file.
